


Hey There Little Red

by nauticalparamour



Series: Hey There Little Red [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22544281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nauticalparamour/pseuds/nauticalparamour
Summary: A chance meeting with Professor Fenrir Greyback on a lonely path has college student Hermione wondering if werewolves are real. Good thing the moon isn't full. Modern AU. One-shot. Fenrir x Hermione. Was a one-shot, but is now being expanded. Chapter One can still be read as a stand alone chapter. COMPLETE!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fenrir Greyback
Series: Hey There Little Red [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624189
Comments: 6
Kudos: 113





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for dulce.de.leche.go's spooky scary halloween challenge for 2016! Just posting it here now.

Hermione had muttered to herself the whole time she'd been packing up her textbooks at the library in preparation for her long trek back to her apartment. She couldn't believe that her friends would blow off their regular study session just because it was _Halloween_. Sure, the bar was doing some kind of asinine special - free drinks for barely there costumes, or the like - but it was a _school night_.

Ginny had been eager to try out her new fake id, and was gushing over wearing her Little Mermaid costume. Harry could never say no to his girlfriend, so he went along too, despite Hermione's warnings that he needed to pass his chemistry exam if he was going to keep his athletic scholarship. Ron was so wrapped up in his new girlfriend, Lavender, that he didn't even think twice about saying no. Even Neville had been swept up in the Halloween spirit. All except for _boring_ Hermione.

 _Well_ , Hermione had thought snidely, _boring Hermione_ was going to pass her differential equations midterm later that week.

But, it still meant that she would have the make the lonely walk back to Grandma's apartments all by her lonesome. Wrapping her red peacoat around her a bit tighter, she got to the part of her walk that she hated.

Hogwarts University campus was very spread out, but it hugged the Black Lake. Only, there was a significant part of the path that went through the Forbidden Forest, which was always a bit _eerie_ even with walking companions. When you were by yourself, late at night, the moon round in the sky...well, Hermione was remembering all those talks from when she was just a fresher about the buddy system.

The wind blew through the trees, making her shudder when the cold penetrated her jacket. The rattling leaves sounded sinister, and branches shook and groaned, almost as if they were trying to reach out and grab her. She half expected a Vincent Price monologue to run through her head.

Her ears strained to identify each and every sound, while the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. There was a crunching she could hear that didn't quite match up with the cadence of her steps, which could only mean one thing…

...she wasn't alone on the path.

Lengthening her stride, Hermione tried to outpace the other person on the path, not wanting to cross paths, while her heart was threatening to beat right out of her chest. To her dismay, the other person seemed to speed up, too.

Keeping her wide eyes facing forward, she didn't want to turn and make eye contact with her pursuer. Until _he_ called out for her. "Hey there, little red," the voice came from right beside her.

She couldn't stop the snort of laughter from bubbling up. She cocked her head to the side to see the man who spoke. "What does that make you, the big bad wolf?" she teased, completely unapologetic for her sassy tone. Hermione wasn't exactly looking for a walking companion, so she could hope that she scared him off with her rudeness.

The feral grin that he gave her made her catch her breath. He was huge — at least a foot taller than she was — and broad. The sweater he wore was probably a bit too small as it could barely hold in the bunching muscle it covered. He had long hair tied back low on his neck and he looked _every_ bit a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"That depends. Are you going to Grandma's place?" he teased her back, not in the least bit bothered with her tone. His voice was deep and gravelly, causing a shiver to run up Hermione's spine. She wondered where this man came from. She was sure she would have noticed him around campus before.

"Actually, yes," Hermione told him with a blush. "Grandma's Apartments." She didn't know what compelled her to tell a complete stranger about where she lived, but she couldn't take it back now.

"Allow me to accompany you then. I am headed to the labs just past Grandma's," he said, again with that feral smile. Was it Hermione's imagination or did his canine teeth seem a bit more like _fangs_? "I don't think a girl as pretty as you should be walking alone in these spooky old woods. I'll keep you safe."

Hermione blushed at the compliment. It had been a very long time since someone had called her pretty. She didn't know what it was about the bulky man, but she felt decidedly _unsafe_ with him. As though he might just gobble her up. Her blush intensified at that thought. "What are you doing at the labs?" she asked, politely, wanting to get her mind out of the gutter.

"I am a professor," he said succinctly, as though it would tell her why he was headed to the lab so late at night. Perhaps he was involved in a sleep study. "Fenrir Greyback," he introduced himself.

"A professor of what?" Hermione asked, this time, actually curious.

He looked down at her, before turning his head back to the road ahead of him. "Animal behavior."

Hermione scrunched her nose in frustration. He certainly was a man of few words so far. But, she supposed that was an interesting field. "Oh? I actually went to a fascinating lecture by Professor Lupin-" He cut her off with a snort. "What, don't you like Professor Lupin?"

"We just have differing opinions. He and I both specialize in wolves." Hermione tried to keep the smile off her face, thinking that her earlier assessment of him as a werewolf was perhaps a bit more apt. "I think there are certain things in a wolf's nature that can't be suppressed...no matter how much Lupin tries to suppress them. Sometimes, you can't fight nature's _instinct._ " From the way he said it, it sounded as if he had personal knowledge of the struggle.

Hermione couldn't help but think that a lecture from Fenrir would be completely different from the lecture she'd seen Lupin give. Sure, Lupin was a very nice, respectable man — even a little bit shabby — but she doubted he could keep her attention like the veritable giant man walking her home. She was sure she'd be on the edge of her seat, but _not_ for the intellectual stimulation.

In the distance, they could hear a lone wolf howling to the moon, before several others joined in. Hermione felt another shiver race up and down her spine. The thought of wolves living so close to her was a bit unsettling, especially when Fenrir talked about wolves following their instincts. She knew it was preposterous, but he almost talked about it as though he had first hand experience.

A nervous laugh bubbled from her, trying to create a more jovial atmosphere between them. "Good thing it's not a full moon tonight, right?" she quipped. She could see the moon hanging over the lake, beams of light blanketing the water. It was so full it was just nearly round, save for a small sliver on one side.

Fenrir smirked at her, but said nothing. They walked a while in silence, before he spoke again. "So Little Red, do you have a name?" he asked, eager to know more about the enticing creature next to him.

She blushed again at the nickname. "Hermione. Hermione Granger. I'm a math major." She realized that she was babbling, but she couldn't stop. She needed to do anything to fill the silence that stretched between them. "My friends usually walk me back, but they all went out to the bar tonight, because it's Halloween."

He nodded in understanding and Hermione couldn't stop from letting her mind wander with how handsome he was. Fenrir certainly wasn't her usual type, but he was rugged and wild and he had thrown her completely off kilter until she wasn't really sure if she _wanted_ him or if she wanted to run away from him.

Finally, they broke free of the forest that enclosed the path, and they were nearly at the door of her apartment building. They stood under the flickering artificial light that lit up the entryway. Hermione fiddled with her keys, wanting him to leave so that she could get inside and away from these confusing feelings.

To her dismay, he just stood in front of her with that _infuriating_ smirk on his lips, staring at her. Now that they were face to face, it was clear just how much bigger he was than her. Hermione could just imagine him throwing her over his shoulder, carrying her off to his lair to have his wicked way with her.

An amused look on his face, Hermione feared he probably knew _exactly_ what she was thinking about. His blue eyes were boring into hers, unwilling to break eye contact, making Hermione feel a bit off kilter. "What _big_ eyes you have," he said biting his lip with those pointy canines. "They could drive a big, bad wolf mad."

Hermione sucked in a breath when he took a step closer to her, her heart fluttering wildly. She thought he'd taken the joke rather too far. She knew that _werewolves_ weren't real, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was a predator in a finely made sheep's suit. He raised a hand, only to let his thumb trace her lower lip. "What _full_ lips you have."

His hand grabbed her chin firmly in his grasp. She felt her eyes slip shut, and then his lips pressed against hers insistently. She pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her, entranced. His teeth caught her lower lip, and she couldn't suppress a moan when the point of his tooth caught the pink flesh, the coppery taste of her blood on her tongue.

His tongue entered her mouth, plundering her. He walked her back until her back was pressed against the door. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he pulled her head to the side, offering her neck up for his mouth to pepper kisses down to her pulse point. He sucked and laved her skin, bruising her for sure, but she was powerless to do anything but moan and whine in pleasure. She could feel her hips rock against his, her face flush, and her finger playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She wanted _more_.

Hermione was wondering just what got into her that she was kissing a stranger in front of her building, barely able to contain moans of appreciation at the feel of his hard cock pressing against her stomach. Her body throbbed in anticipation, desire flooding her body. She pressed her legs together, cheeks blushing at the wetness that had gathered there.

But then, as suddenly as he was kissing her, he was pulling away. She could hear another distant howl echoing in the air. He looked down at her, grin on his face while she caught her breath. "I have to go. If you ever want another demonstration in...animal behavior, you know where to find me." He gave her one last smoldering look, before turning and leaving her standing beneath the buzzing of the artificial light.

Hands shaking while she inserted the key, Hermione tried to wrap her head around what had just happened. When she got into her studio, she went to the bathroom, unimpressed to find one side of her neck littered with hickeys. At this point she wasn't sure that Fenrir Greyback _wasn't_ the big bad wolf!

As if she needed further confirmation, she heard a lone howl just outside her window, hauntingly _different_ from the one's she heard before, sending a jolt of fear up her spine. Oh, just what had she gotten herself into?


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione had slept in fits and starts, her dreams haunted by wolves, howling and nipping at her heels, and a mysterious stranger, dominating her mouth with fervent kisses and nips. She wasn't sure if she'd woken up fearful or aroused.

A veritable pounding at the door woke her up, and she threw on her silk robe before answering the door to her studio apartment. It was Ginny, her smudged makeup and wearing Harry's shirt, leading Hermione to believe she'd spent the night at Harry's apartment just down the hall from hers.

The redhead swept into the room. "Are you only just waking up, silly head? It's nearly ten," Ginny said, before turning to look at her friend with a discerning look. "Hermione Jean! Is that a hickey on your neck?"

Hermione internally cursed, having completely forgotten about the marks that Professor Greyback had left on her the night before. She hadn't even done anything to try to hide the love bites, and she only hoped they didn't look quite so severe as they had the night before. She covered the side of her neck with her hand, cheeks flushed. "No," she tried to lie, even though she knew it was hopeless.

Ginny wrenched her hand away, showing the abused flesh, before letting out a low whistle. "You _naughty_ girl," Ginny teased with a smirk on her lips. "If you didn't want to go to the party because you had a date you could have just told us." Suddenly, her eyes light up with poorly disguised glee. "Is he still here?" she asked, before marching around the privacy divider that separated Hermione's bed from the rest of the room.

To her obvious disappointment, all she found was Hermione's empty, rumpled bed. Hermione rolled her eyes at the girl's obvious disappointment. "What are you doing here, Ginny?" she asked, trying not to sound rude, but annoyed at having her morning routine bothered.

"Ron was so hungover that he asked mum to make a fry up." Ginny rolled her eyes are her brothers obvious lack of self control and her mother's need to enable him. "We are all going over, so I hoped you'd come too."

Hermione bit her lower lip. "I don't know," she cautioned, thinking of the midterm that she had coming up the next day, and how much she had left to revise. Not to mention the awkwardness that lingered between her and the Weasley family.

"Come on, Hermione. You and Ron have been broken up for over a year now!" Ginny complained, perhaps not seeing the cold way that Molly Weasley still treated her. She had dated Ron for about two months; the relationship had become too serious too fast, before it fizzled out into mindless arguments. "Everyone will be there. Even Bill is coming."

The brunette did perk her ears at that. Ginny's older brother Bill was a PhD student in the animal behavior department, if Hermione remembered correctly, working with wolves as well. She wondered when she'd become surrounded by all things lupine, but she was only just noticing it all now. "Fine, alright, just let me get changed."

There wasn't enough time to shower, so Hermione pulled a jumper on with her jeans, and quickly tried to apply a little makeup to cover the hickeys on her neck. They looked every bit as red as they had the night before, but Hermione felt a little thrill of pleasure zing up her spine when her fingers traced the bruises. To her disappointment, the makeup wasn't able to cover them as well as she'd hoped. Sighing, she decided that she would just have to rely on her unruly, wild hair to cover them and pray that Ginny was so distracted with Harry that she didn't remember to ask about them.

Less than half an hour later, she was squished into Harry's car next to Ron and Lavender, wondering why she'd agreed to take the short trip to the Weasleys' home. Ron seemed to be over his hangover enough to make out with Lavender throughout the drive, though he pulled away when Ginny began to ask her about her mystery man.

"Come on, Hermione, aren't you just going to tell me who it is? I mean...he _must_ have been a good shag by the state of you this morning," Ginny said, staring at her from the mirror.

Hermione groaned, wishing she could be swallowed up into the fabric of the back seat. This was not the conversation she wanted to be having, _especially_ in front of her ex-boyfriend who still inexplicably thought that everything she did was for his attention. "You don't know him," Hermione said firmly. "And we didn't shag, he just walked me home from the library," she replied, wondering when her sex life became gossip fodder.

"Are you just trying to make us feel bad about not walking you home from the library?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes at her. "Hermione, you really need to lighten up. It was Halloween."

"I don't mind that you went out for Halloween. I had a very productive evening at the library," Hermione said, scoffing at the idea that it was - once again - all about Ron.

"And then you had one hell of a goodnight kiss from the looks of it," Ginny said proudly, giving Hermione a supportive grin from the front seat.

"What does that mean?" Ron asked, his face turning a bit red. He seemed to detest the idea that Hermione would enjoy _any_ man after him.

"Nothing," Hermione said firmly, glad he hadn't noticed the way she kept rearranging her hair to cover one side of her neck. She gave Ginny a firm look to suggest that if she opened her mouth about the hickeys she would be in trouble.

Luckily, before any further conversation could be had, they had arrived at the Weasleys' home, and they all tumbled out of the cramped car. With Lavender there to be the focus of Molly Weasley's attention, Hermione was able to enjoy the brunch. And really, Mrs. Weasley was a wonderful cook, so it would be a shame not to enjoy the omelet and sausages that had been served to her.

It was a lazy Wednesday morning, as Hermione didn't have class until her evening lab, so she tried to relax a little bit. Only, when Bill Weasley came to sit next to her on the couch, she suddenly remembered the reason she'd eventually agreed to come with. "Hi Bill, how is your research going?" she broached the topic, trying to seem casual.

"Good, we are just finishing up our observations and then I can begin writing my dissertation in earnest." Bill said, with a smile. Obviously it was something that he was passionate about, and Hermione thought about how it satisfying it would be to complete the amount of research that he did.

"That's wonderful Bill," Hermione congratulated him. "You are studying wolves, right?" she asked, trying to keep her voice casual, but feeling anticipation run through her body.

"Yeah, studying pack dynamics," Bill replied, excited that _someone_ was actually interested in what he was studying. Hermione knew that all of the Weasleys were rather focused on their own interests, but not really bother to learn about other people's interests.

Hermione really did think that it was interesting, realizing that she didn't really know how packs operated at all. But, she was more curious to learn about a particular Professor in the department than whatever Bill was studying. "Say...Bill, do you know a...Professor Greyback?" she asked, suddenly finding the edge of her jumper _very_ interesting.

"Fenrir Greyback?" Bill questioned, the shock absolutely evident in his voice, and Hermione felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. This certainly wasn't the way that Hermione had expected things to go.

"Fenrir Greyback?" Ginny parroted Bill before sitting down next to the pair. "Who's that? Hermione, is he your mystery man?"

Bill choked on the bit of water that he was drinking. "Hermione, have you been seeing Professor Greyback?"

"Well _someone_ gave her all those hickeys didn't they?" Ginny asked, and Hermione couldn't stop herself from punching the younger girl in the arm.

"Oh, honestly, Ginny, must you share my business with everyone? I wish there was some way I could go back in time and never answer the door for you this morning," Hermione huffed. She looked into Bill's eyes, guiltily, before subconsciously fixing her hair, unintentionally revealing the love bites to his eyes.

"Fuck, he's marked you," Bill said, his eyes narrowing in horror. He moved his large hand to her hair, hesitating before pulling her hair back, revealing the bright red marks to his eyes.

Hermione felt her heart speed up as fear snaked through her belly for the first time since the night before. Fenrir had ignited _something_ in her blood, but she'd been nervous and on edge the whole time he walked with her as well. "What do you mean he _marked_ me?" Hermione asked, hearing her voice sound a bit more shrill. It sounded like it would better apply to the _wolves_ that they studied, rather than a human.

But that was preposterous, Hermione scolded herself. Fenrir wasn't part wolf after all...werewolves didn't exist. Then she remembered that howl outside her bedroom window the night before and the way it sounded a bit unnatural.

Bill grimaced, before shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Hermione, it's nothing. I didn't mean marked in a particular way," he backtracked, but it didn't sound very convincing to her ears. "If I were you, Hermione I would keep as far away from Professor Greyback as possible," he said sternly.

She barely managed to resist rolling her eyes in annoyance. Bill wasn't _her_ older brother, and she was certain that she could make her own decisions on the good looking professor who she couldn't get out of her mind. "And just why is that?" she cringed at the haughty tone of her voice. _She_ was the one who'd asked Bill about Greyback.

Bill looked off towards the empty fireplace, unable to maintain eye contact with her for any longer. Hermione could see the long scar down one of his cheeks, and wondered for the second time just where he got it. Finally, he sighed and turned back to her. "Because he's dangerous," he finally answered. Without any more explanation, Bill stood up from the couch, leaving her there alone with Ginny.

"Oh, I would _definitely_ go see him again after a promise like that," Ginny said with a smirk on her face. "Just who is this guy anyway, Hermione?"

"I told you, he just walked me back to the apartment," Hermione said with a blush, knowing that he did much more than that. "I doubt I will see him again, and Bill's _glowing_ endorsement of him doesn't really make me eager to seek him out."

Hermione _wished_ that was the truth, but she couldn't deny that she was intrigued. She nibbled at her lower lip, thinking about how wild and masculine he'd looked last night, the way he teased her, insinuating that he was the big bad wolf. She couldn't help but wish that she would see him again, even if just for one more intoxicating kiss.

The worst was that she knew _exactly_ where to find him, should she so choose to seek him out. The invitation that he'd extended her the night before sent a shiver up her spine and heat to pool in her belly. If she wasn't so frightened of...the possibility, she'd probably even consider taking him up on it.

Before she could think about Fenrir Greyback a minute longer, Mrs. Weasley was calling them all to gather around the table for breakfast. She pushed the heated look in Fenrir's striking blue eyes to the back of her mind.


	3. Chapter 3

"Come on, Hermione, please. I am begging you," the pink haired woman pleaded to Hermione across the table in the library. Nymphadora Tonks, or Tonks as she preferred to be called, was a senior in Hermione's advanced quantitative methods class. Tonks was a criminal justice major who had waited until the very last year to take her statistics requirement, and was miserable during it. Still, Hermione was happy to help out and had formed a friendship with the girl.

Despite being friends, Tonks was asking her too much this time. She wanted Hermione to accompany her to the animal behavior lab so that she could talk to Professor Remus Lupin. Normally, she would have agreed readily, because seeing Tonks transform into a blushing clutz in front of the man was hilarious.

But...Hermione couldn't go to the animal behavior lab, not when she was fastidiously avoiding running into one Professor Fenrir Greyback. She'd been doing _so_ well, not thinking about him so far. "No way, Tonks. It's Friday," Hermione said, hoping to sound calm and not to raise suspicion.

"Exactly, it's Friday, and I know you have nothing going on for the rest of the afternoon," Tonks said, raising her eyebrow. "Please, just this one time Hermione. I can't talk to Professor Lupin by myself."

Hermione looked over at her friend and sighed, knowing that she was going to give in. Besides, she recalled that Lupin and Fenrir didn't get along. There was a good chance that she wouldn't even see him if she went there. "Okay, but you owe me," Hermione said, before packing up her books and following the girl from the library.

They walked along the path that Fenrir had escorted her not long ago, and Hermione remembered just how _excited_ she'd been to have him walking next to her, constantly on the edge of fear. It was exhilarating and a bit sexy, and let her block out the gushing praise that Tonks seemed to heap on Professor Lupin. She did find Tonks' crush to be a bit sweet, even if she didn't really understand the appeal. Professor Lupin was a nice man, of course, but he didn't exactly make Hermione feel _alive_. He seemed like the kind of person who would...offer you a hot chocolate or something, rather than a hot snog.

Before she knew it, they were at the doors of the animal behavior lab, and waited outside of the classroom that Lupin was lecturing in. By the time that the students were packing up their bags, Tonks was bouncing on her heels, making Hermione snort in amusement. "Why don't you just take one of his classes if you want to see him so badly?"

"Because then I wouldn't be able to snog him," Tonks fired back, annoyed.

"I don't know if he'll snog you even if you _aren't_ his student," Hermione said with a smirk. "He seems far too _honorable_ for that kind of behavior." Her mind immediately conjured a memory of Fenrir pressing her back against her door. That certainly wasn't honorable.

Before they could argue anymore, Professor Lupin was waiting for them at the door, greeting them in that quiet way of his. Hermione looked at his face, and noticed he had a few faint scars on his face, not unlike the one that Bill wore. That was odd, she thought, and wondered what it could possibly be from.

She basically tuned out while Tonks was chatting with the Professor, though she soon was startled when he asked her a question. "Miss Granger, would you like to accompany us back to my office to continue this conversation?" One look in Tonks's eyes, glaring at her to make the right decision, told her that she would absolutely not be going back to his office.

"Oh, no thank you, Professor. I am afraid I have some homework to get back to," Hermione said, nodding to them both and wishing them a pleasant weekend. It was only after they'd disappeared down the hallway that Hermione realized she had absolutely no idea how to get out of the building. They were on the upper floors where the hallways were winding and narrow, confusing.

Sighing, she wandered around, looking for a map or a sign telling her how to get out of the building. It wasn't long before she came upon a room that was filled with cages, and in those cages were tiny wolf puppies. Hermione liked to think of herself as a level headed girl, but even she couldn't contain the squeal of joy at seeing them.

She tried the knob and found the door opened easily enough. She walked inside and the wolves began yipping excitedly. They were so little still, she thought, with floppy ears and bright eyes. Hermione stuck her fingers through the bars letting the pups smell her hand and lick herfingers. She gasped, feeling their tiny little puppy teeth gnaw at her fingers.

"They haven't learned yet not to bite" a deep voice said behind her, causing her to spin around, pressing a hand to her heart.

"Merlin, you frightened me," Hermione said, taking in the form of Fenrir Greyback. Though she was no longer scared, her heartbeat would not return to normal. Today, he was wearing a red checkered shirt, with rolled up sleeves, showing off smooth expanses of tan skin stretched over straining muscle.

"I'm sorry," he said with a smirk that belied any apology he gave. "They like you though, which is a bit unusual. These are a part of an experiment, and they are usually unfriendly to humans. Must be the same reason that I like you."

Hermione felt her eyelashes flutter while she processed his words. "And why is that?" she asked, hating the breathless way her voice sounded.

"Because you taste so sweet," he told her, blue eyes meeting hers unflinchingly.

Needing to get a better grasp of the situation, Hermione pushed the conversation off of herself. "What kind of an experiment?" she asked, thinking that working with wolf puppies would be a rather fun experiment to take part of.

He looked amused at her, and she wondered if he knew just how much he affected her. "Testing nature versus nurture, I hope. I've been breeding the more feral wolves with other feral wolves and the more docile ones with dociles ones. The docile ones are starting to look more like dogs, but not these ones. These are third generation feral," he told her.

Hermione was surprised to learn that. Of course, they seemed like regular wolves to her, but maybe they were not so usually well behaved. "They are beautiful puppies," she said quietly, unsure of what to say.

"We call them cubs, actually. Sounds more scientific," he teased her. "I was about to teach these ones to learn to howl, if you want to stay." He opened the door of the cage and grabbed one of the cubs by the scruff of its neck, pulling it out and into his arms.

She could barely stop the groan from leaving her throat, seeing him thusly. He looked so broad and strong, taller than seemed possible, but holding such a tiny animal made him seem approachable and...well, the wolf didn't seem to have any trouble with him either, she thought. He was definitely a natural with them.

He sat in a chair, holding the cub in his massive hands. Hermione pulled a chair next to him and couldn't resist giving a little scratch behind its ears, the reddish-grey fur soft. "How do you teach it to howl?" she asked, curious. Didn't they just learn how to howl on their own? Wasn't it instinctual?

Fenrir looked at the dog before he himself began to howl, a low and nearly mournful sound. As soon as he started, Hermione felt a bolt of fear in her belly. She knew that sound...that unnatural howl. It was the same as the one just outside of her window. What did this mean exactly, she wondered? Things were beginning to get odder and odder with Fenrir.

Before she could ponder it much longer, the tiny cub began to howl as well, throwing his head back towards the ceiling. It sounded so little, high pitched and squeaky that Hermione couldn't help but giggle. Oh, but it was perhaps the most adorable things she'd ever seen in her life. Then to her joy, the rest of the tiny cubs began howling as well, a miniature cacophony. When she saw these little babies, she wondered how _anyone_ could be frightened of a wolf.

"Would you like to hold him?" Fenrir offered, holding out the little wolf to Hermione's waiting arms.

She couldn't help a giggle when the cub struggled in her arms so that it sound look at her face. Tiny little licks from his tongue tickled her face, and the wolf gave happy little yips at having found a new playmate. It made her miss her old cat, Crookshanks, who had died the year before. The pup gave her a nip on the nose with his teeth, that didn't break skin, but it still hurt. "Ouch! He nipped me."

Fenrir took the cub from her arms, and growled at him, causing him to whine. Hermione felt tendril of fear coil in her stomach hearing that noise. It sounded so feral, so wild, but mostly, it sounded so realistic. "Sorry, they still need to learn not to use their teeth," he apologized before putting the little one back in his cage.

When he took his seat again, he looked at her, heat in his eyes. "Let me make it up to you. Join me for dinner tomorrow evening. Eight o'clock."

Hermione nibbled on her lower lip, thinking about his words. She was _so_ intensely curious about Fenrir Greyback. He didn't seem dangerous...well, most of the time. She couldn't deny that he did do some things that were... _odd_ to say the least.

Perhaps sensing her waffling about her decision, Fenrir grabbed her off of her chair, before settling her back on his lap. She could feel the heat rolling off his body, and she couldn't deny that it felt lovely to be wrapped up in him. He was staring at her lips, before he dipped his head, their lips meeting passionately.

Hermione didn't hesitate in opening her lips, letting his tongue slip against hers, trying to hide a little moan that sounded wanton even to her ears. She was dizzy with pleasure, loving the feeling and wondering _why_ she ever decided to avoid him when he made her feel _so good_. His arm was tight around her waist, keeping her from tumbling off her lap.

Fenrir broke the kiss, before purposefully setting his hand on her bare leg, looking at her with a smirk on his handsome face. She cursed herself for wearing a skirt that day, but couldn't keep her eyes off of the sight his large hand made, moving its way up her inner thigh. Hermione trembled in anticipation, but just as his fingers creeped underneath the fabric, they were interrupted.

"Miss Granger? What are you doing?" a voice called from the doorway.

Hermione scrambled off of the large man, nearly stumbling, except for his steadying hand around her waist. "Professor Lupin," Hermione said, surprised, trying to think of a good excuse. "I...I was just…"

"It's none of your business, Lupin," Fenrir said through gritted teeth.

It couldn't be denied that Professor Lupin's eyes narrowed at that. "Well, I was just about to walk Nymphadora out, if you'd like to join me," he said, keeping his gaze on the hand around Hermione's waist.

"Yes, I should be going," Hermione said, finally feeling like her legs weren't absolute jelly, but still embarrassed by the wetness that had formed between them. "Professor Greyback, thank you for showing me the cubs," she said politely.

"Anytime," he answered, his focus now returning to her. "Don't forget - eight o'clock tomorrow. I'll pick you up - I know where you live, after all."

She wondered if that was some kind of threat, because on its face it sounded like one, but she couldn't pretend like she wasn't looking forward to her date with him, even though she'd never actually agreed to it.

Tonks was glaring at her, for perhaps keeping a secret from her, but she didn't say anything about it on their walk out of the building. Professor Lupin stopped Hermione before she could walk out the front door. "Be careful, Miss Granger. Professor Greyback is...a difficult character at best," he said, tersely.

Hermione nodded, wondering why this was the _second_ warning she'd gotten about Fenrir. It did give her pause, to say the least.

Once the two girls were alone, Tonks rounded at her, so she could read Hermione's face. "What the hell? Were you ever going to tell me about the hunky reason why you were avoiding the animal behavior lab?" she asked.

The brunette snorted. "That depends. Are you going to let me call you _Nymphadora_?" she teased, knowing that Lupin had called her friend by her given name without reproach. The girls dissolved into a fit of giggles, before Hermione focused on asking questions about what Tonks had talked about with him. _Anything_ to keep the conversation off of Fenrir Greyback.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione had told herself that she _wasn't_ going to go on the date with Fenrir. She'd never actually agreed to it, and he'd just tried to kiss her into submission, into giving into his desires. But, another night of fevered dreams of passion with Fenrir and his promise that he knew where she lived had her giving in.

She'd found a little black dress that she hoped made her look good, but not as if she'd put so much effort into her appearance. She did not want him to think that she spent any time doing anything for his benefit, though she did take the time to properly style her hair and put on a touch of makeup. And, she certainly hadn't picked up a bottle of red wine to _share_ with him, even though it sat on her kitchen counter nonetheless.

After staring at herself in the mirror for an inordinate amount of time, she decided that the red lipstick on her plump lips didn't look quite as classic and bold on her face as the magazines would have her believe. Instead it made her look silly. Just as she was going to take it off, though, a knock on the door startled her.

Hermione cursed under her breath, hoping it wasn't Ginny. She did _not_ want to have to explain the reason that she was all dressed up to her friend after the way she'd gone on and on about Hermione's hickeys earlier that week. Opening her door, though, she was surprised to see Fenrir waiting at the door, looking extremely handsome in a grey wool coat.

"How did you find my door?" Hermione asked, a bit annoyed at the wolfish grin that spread across his face. It seemed as though he was doing everything he could to fit the big, bad wolf stereotype.

"I did tell you that I knew where you lived," he said, his gravelly voice low, sending a surprised shiver up and down her spine, making her question just _why_ she was going through with this farce again.

She huffed. "Yeah, you knew my building, not my apartment _number_."

"Are you going to invite me inside, or should we move this conversation to dinner?" he asked, completely ignoring her accusation. He took the time to look up and down her body, and Hermione decided to curse herself for indulging in wearing heels. There was no denying that she _had_ wanted to look good for him, now, with his eyes on her.

Hermione bit her lip, thinking that they really ought to go to the bar now, otherwise they might _never_ make it there, judging by the heated look in his blue eyes. "Just let me grab my coat," she told him, before wrapping herself in the red coat that had brought them together on Halloween.

Ever the gentleman, Fenrir offered her his arm for the short walk, and Hermione's unsteady steps down the gravel path, owing to her high heels. It was pleasant to know that she could lean on him and he wouldn't let her fall. He lead her to a little pub on the far side of campus, just a short walk from her apartment, but far enough away from downtown that she doubted she would run into any of her friends. Finding a seat at the bar, Hermione was impressed when Fenrir helped her out of her coat, his fingers trailing over her bare arms.

She ordered a glass of wine, suddenly needing a bit of liquid courage when she realized that she really was on a _date_ with Fenrir Greyback. Somehow he'd inserted himself into her life with fierce kisses and insistent touches. It should really not be allowed for a _professor_ to be quite so good looking. His sweater _barely_ contained the impressive musculature of his upper arms and shoulders...really, was he allergic to buying properly fitting clothing?

His eyes were trained on the side of her neck where the lovebites he'd left behind were just starting to fade. Hermione scowled at the positively glib look on his face. "So…" Hermione started, not knowing the best way to breach the topic. "Bill Weasley said...that you, um, _marked_ me?" She felt a bit naughty saying it aloud, even. It sounded so bloody animalistic.

The feral grin he gave her didn't make her feel _any_ better about it. "Bill Weasley should mind his own business," he said. He took a big drink of the porter that he'd ordered.

"What did he mean?" Hermione asked insistently, unwilling to let him sweep _this_ topic under the rug too. She had the right to know just what this man was getting her into, especially without her permission. Sure, she'd loved the kisses when they happened, and she couldn't deny that seeing the bruises gave her a little thrill when she saw them in the mirror, but she couldn't just ignore the dominating and nearly savage nature of them at the same time.

Fenrir scowled, looking away from her for a moment, perhaps trying to figure out how to explain it to her without angering her. Finally, he turned to look at her, his pupils huge in the low light of the pub. "When Weasley was just a pup in the department, he got a bit too handsy with a woman I was seeing. I am very possessive and had to let him know just who she _belonged_ to," he explained, gruffly.

Hermione bristled, hearing that. "Are you saying that I _belong_ to you? That you've _claimed_ me in some weird macho way? Because I don't belong to you," she said, narrowing her eyes. She wouldn't abide by that kind of thinking, but she also couldn't deny that she found it a bit exciting. She pressed her legs together tightly, hoping that he wouldn't notice the subtle movement.

He took another drink, before his pink tongue darted out to get a bit of foam on his upper lip, never breaking eye contact. Hermione felt her insides clench, even with that utterly arrogant look on his face. "Wanna bet?"

She gasped, ready to verbally spar with him again, until he silenced her with a hand on her bare knee. She could feel his body heat seeping into her skin, and couldn't hide the shiver of pleasure that ran up her spine at the touch. As much as she wanted to deny it, it seemed as if she did belong to him. Her body was completely beholden to him and the feelings that he could produce. It felt like it was happening too fast, too quickly, but at the moment, she couldn't find it in herself to care.

Finally, she looked away, breaking the spell, desperate to talk about _anything_ else at the moment so she didn't just jump him at the bar. God, when had she gotten so naughty? She felt transformed in his presence.

Mercifully, Fenrir seemed to understand her discomfort, and though looked he would rather pull her into his lap right then and there and show everyone else at the pub who she _belonged_ to, he began asking her questions about her program. It was refreshing to learn that he actually had quite a mind for maths, himself, seeing as Hermione's friends couldn't be arsed with the study.

After two glasses of wine, she relaxed and found that she really enjoyed her time with the huge man. She couldn't for the life of her understand why people found him dangerous. Sure, he was possessive and a bit pushy, but she hadn't felt like he was _trouble_. Feeling bold and wanting to see just where all of this _could_ go, she stopped mid sentence. "Would you like to walk me home?" she asked from beneath sooty lashes, feeling terribly coquettish.

It seemed that he _thoroughly_ approved of the suggestion though, quickly paying the bartender, before leading her out of the pub. The whole walk back to Grandma's Apartments had Hermione feeling positively giddy. She'd never asked a man back to her's after the first date, after all. She wasn't planning on going all the way, but she would just see how she was feeling in the moment.

Standing outside her door, Hermione fumbled with the keys, before asking him to come inside. "I've a bottle of wine, if you'd like to come in for a night cap," she offered, more out of a misplaced sense of propriety.

Fenrir smiled down at her like he always knew that she was going to invite him in. God, he could be infuriating, but at the same time, so sexy. "Wine? So classy," he snarked at her, before helping steady her hand to slip the key into the lock. Hermione couldn't help but stare at his large hand over her own, and thought she really wouldn't mind being possessed by him tonight.

Opening the door, Hermione stumbled inside of her apartment, only to have Fenrir's hands land on her hips, steadying her. Laughing at her clumsiness, she kicked off her shoes and turned the lights on, before shutting the door behind her. Any thoughts of actually opening the wine still waiting on her counter were tabled the second she spun around in his arms.

Fenrir pressed his lips against hers tightly, his teeth coming to nibble playfully on her lower lip. Hermione pulled on his sweater that had been tormenting her all night, pulling him back towards the waiting couch in her living room. They fell against it in a heap, not willing to part for even an instant.

She wasn't sure what came over her, but Hermione wanted to be as close to Fenrir is she could possibly get. She couldn't deny that part of what worked between them was their animalistic desire for one another. Moving herself to straddle his waist, Hermione moaned softly feeling his hands push her dress up her bare legs, exposing red lace knickers to his greedy eyes. Chuckling softly, he broke their kiss. "Mmm, you know how much I love this color on you," he complimented, before pressing his lips against her delicate neck, down her decolletage, to the tops of her breasts.

His kisses and nips had just enough teeth that it had her keening, pressing her core tightly against the erection he was currently sporting. Every bite he soothed with his hot tongue, and Hermione just knew she was going to be sporting fresh hickeys in the morning, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Pressing her tiny hands under the soft fabric of his sweater, she began pulling it up, up, slowly revealing tan flesh to her greedy eyes. She barely got him to pull away from her long enough to properly remove his shirt, leaving him bare before her eyes. Her timid fingers ran over his hot flesh, covered with soft hair. She wanted to touch him everywhere, unable to help herself.

He pulled her dress and bra down in front to expose more of her body to him, lips latching tight around a hard nipple. She pressed her hands into his hair, holding him close to her, letting him press her back against the couch while his hips rutted furiously against her core. She was throbbing at this point, wanting, needing any kind of friction.

Grabbing the bottom of her dress, she pulled it up over her head, before removing her bra as well. She felt powerful and sexy watching the way his blue eyes drank in her form, _hungry_. His teeth caught his lower lip, unable to hold back a groan. "Hermione? May I taste you?" he asked, his voice completely husky with arousal at this point.

She felt like she was spinning out of control, but nodded enthusiastically, needing to know _just_ what that would feel like, and lifted her hips to help him take off her knickers. She shuddered with need when he bent over, his dark head between spread legs. She shivered in anticipation feeling his hot breath on her center, and she whined, needing _some_ kind of touch.

The tip of his tongue darted out, pressing firmly against her clit, finally giving her some relief. Insistent licks against her wet flesh followed, sending Hermione into a world of pleasure. She stared down at him, pupils blown wide, watching him palm his hard cock through his jeans while he worked magic on her body, playing her like an instrument. He lapped against her sex, sending her towards ecstasy.

She was being wound tighter and tighter, her eyes clenched tight trying to get there, until finally she snapped, her core clenching in orgasm, crying out his name. Above her Fenrir groaned, nursing her through the orgasm, with his hand inside his jeans, until he was coming with a roar as well.

Idly, Hermione hoped that none of her neighbors heard her moaning or his groan of completion, but while her eyelids drooped, heavy with satisfaction, she couldn't find it in herself to care. She drifted off to sleep in Fenrir's arms.


	5. Chapter 5

She wasn't sure what it was that awoke her, just that she was acutely aware that she was being watched. Her eyes snapped open in surprise, only to meet the smirking face of Professor Fenrir Greyback. Hermione felt heat rush to her cheeks when she realized that they were both lying naked in her bed! Well, he still had on boxer briefs, but she was starkers, her lower half covered by a sheet.

She supposed that she couldn't really fault him for staying over, after all, and it was rather nice of him that he'd carried her into the bed. It was her who had fallen asleep on him after he'd...her cheeks grew even hotter at the memory of his face between her thighs. Oh, it had felt so good, but she couldn't believe that she'd done that. Still, she couldn't deny that she wanted _more_ with Fenrir.

Letting her own eyes trail over his defined chest, and resisting the urge to run her hands through the hair leading down into his briefs, Hermione finally made eye contact with the man who'd brought her prior evening to new heights. "Good morning," she murmured, forcing the embarrassment down. Why should she feel embarrassed for enjoying something that they _both_ wanted?

"Good morning, sweet," he responded, reaching across the bed to trace up her side, smiling when he watched her skin erupt into gooseflesh. Her nipples tightened in arousal, and he groaned at the sight. "As much as I would like to stay for a second round, I do have some research to take care of today."

Briefly, Hermione worried that perhaps he was just looking for a way to get out of her apartment as quickly as possible, because he'd gotten what he wanted. But then, she wasn't sure if that was really his style. She nodded and sat up, finding a bra and knickers to throw on, along with a tshirt.

When she turned back around, he'd only just hopped back into his jeans, leaving him shirtless. Her breath caught, seeing how good he looked, from his strong arms, broad shoulders, to trim waist. Looking at him wistfully, she couldn't help asking him to stay. "Are you sure you can't stay for a little while?"

He laughed at her, and Hermione found that he really liked the sound of it. "You have no idea how much I wish I could," he promised, as he finished dressing. It gave Hermione a little bit of hope. "When can I see you next?" he questioned. It was comforting to know that he wanted to see more of her than just what they'd done so far, but he still hadn't really said _why_. She knew that was a conversation that they would have to have at some point.

"I have an exam at the end of the week, so I will probably be at the library a lot," Hermione told him with a frown. She _wanted_ to spend more time with Fenrir, but she didn't know how it would be possible.

"Let me walk you to the library, then," he offered. "I can keep you safe in the woods," he teased, though Hermione was sure that the only she needed to be kept safe from was Fenrir. Still, it was a welcome suggestion.

"I would like that," she told him, before walking him towards the door. She gave him details to meet him the next day at her apartment. Opening the door, she hesitated, not wanting to let him go without a kiss goodbye.

Lucky for her, he seemed to have the same idea. Bending over, he pressed her back against the door and pressed his lips against her mouth, his teeth pressing into her, making sure she knew that she was his in this moment. Fisting her hands in his sweater for purchase, she moaned feeling completely overwhelmed. She wished she could just pull him back inside.

He pressed his hardened cock against her stomach, and his leg between her legs, pressing against her hot core. Just when things were getting out of control, way too much action for her _public_ hallway, a door opening down the hall broke their moment. Hermione broke the kiss and whipped her head towards the noise. She couldn't stop from groaning when she saw that it was Ginny, leaving Harry's apartment.

Fenrir smirked, raising an eyebrow at her, before tilting her head up one more time to look him in the eyes. He pressed one last lingering kiss against her lips, before wishing her a good day. "See you tomorrow," he promised.

Ginny's eyes widened, before she darted down the hallway towards Hermione's apartment, not even waiting for Fenrir to make it to the stairs. Hermione _really_ did not want to have this conversation now, so she retreated into her studio, slamming the door in the redhead's face.

Not to be deterred, Ginny began to bang on the door. "Hermione? Hermione was that Greyback? The dangerous guy?" She was obviously eager for details that Hermione wasn't going to share.

"Go away, Ginny!" Hermione shouted through the door, before putting her headphones in, determined to ignore her friend.

* * *

Fenrir had walked Hermione to the library Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday night of that week. By Thursday evening, she'd become used to his constant presence and lingering kisses, though they did make her remember the wonderful things he'd done with his tongue before, and it made her long to get some alone time with him again.

It seemed as if Fenrir had the same idea, resting his weight on the brick building of the library, unwilling to let her go inside _just_ yet. Hermione always felt a little bit naughty, clearly flirting with a _Professor_ , but it wasn't as though she was his student. She both longed to have people see her with him and was simultaneously embarrassed by the public displays of affection. It just wasn't her usual style.

"So, I've been meaning to ask you," Fenrir started, not hiding the appreciate weight of his eyes on her body. "I have to go do some field research this weekend. It's out in the woods, just a little cabin. I was wondering if you wanted to come with."

It was surprising, Hermione thought, that Fenrir _actually_ seemed a little bit vulnerable, like he thought that she might reject him. It wasn't that she didn't want to go with him, it was just that the locale left a bit to be desired. "Like camping?" she asked skeptically.

"Well, it's a full cabin, running water and everything." He reached out to tuck a bit of her hair behind her ear. "I promise that I know how to keep you warm."

 _That_ promise sent a delighted shiver up her spine. Biting her lower lip, she bounced on her feet. "Let me think on it?" she asked, positive that she knew what he was suggesting. Their relationship...if it could even be defined as that...was moving pretty quickly. Even though Hermione was not a prude, she hadn't had sex with anyone since she'd broken up with Ron over a year ago. She wanted to make sure that she was making the right decision and she wasn't just being held hostage by her hormones. Because, she couldn't deny that being with Fenrir just felt _right_.

Smirking at her, perhaps knowing that thinking it over was simply a technicality, he tangled his large hands into her wild hair, pulling her lips to meet his. He wasted no time in thrusting his tongue between her lips. Hermione moaned feeling him dominate her mouth, tongue slipping against her own and sending a throbbing between her legs. She wrapped her arms around his neck, not wanting to let him go.

Until, a coughing from behind her startled them out of their kiss. "Hermione, are you going to come inside?" Harry asked, looking sheepish and a bit annoyed.

Hermione felt a blush come to her cheeks at being caught by her friend. Pressing one last kiss to Fenrir's lips, she wished her lover goodbye, before entering the library with her friend. They found their usual table, but to no one's surprise, none of their other friends had shown up yet.

"You know, I've been meaning to talk to you," Harry started once they'd settled down at the table. Hermione groaned, not sure that she wanted to have this conversation right now with Harry. "You and Professor Greyback are certainly...moving fast. It's like you spend all your time together."

Hermione scoffed. "You know that's not true. He's not here with me now is he?" she asked. She didn't want to have Harry judge Fenrir without knowing him. And really, the spectacled boy was one to talk. "Besides, you and Ginny basically do everything together, so I don't see how you can object."

"Because I am worried about you," Harry responded, concern in his green eyes. "It's just...Bill seems to think that he's _dangerous_ some how, and you have to admit that it's a little bit unseemly because he's a Professor."

"You don't mind that Tonks is dating Professor Lupin," Hermione snapped back, annoyed that there was some kind of double standard for her. She knew that she was not behaving in the way that they expected her to - lonely and married to her books because she wasn't dating Ron - but maybe this was just who she was _supposed_ to be.

Harry gaped while he was trying to find words. "Well, that's because...well, Professor Lupin is so harmless. And they are clearly in love with each other!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "They've gone on _one_ date! How can you say that they are in love with each other? And we have no evidence to suggest that Fenrir isn't harmless," she argued. Really, it was unusual how these rumors continued to swirl around her beau. It did make Hermione feel a little bit uneasy.

"Bill was pretty adament-"

She cut him off before he could continue. "Well Bill should give me a specific incident rather than just giving me vague warnings and rumors about Fenrir, if he actually knows something serious. Until then, he can butt out of my love life," she insisted.

"I just want you to be careful, Hermione. I am trying to look out for you," Harry told her, reaching across the table to grab her hand, and Hermione believed that Harry thought he was just looking out for her.

"Well, I am being careful," she said, still feeling a bit defensive. But, she wasn't so sure that she was being completely careful. Things had gotten hot and heavy with the Professor, and maybe she should stop for a second before she fell too hard for him and ended up broken hearted.

* * *

The more Hermione had thought on the fact that her friends were bothered by her dating Professor Greyback, the more she wanted to see him. She knew that she had a bit of a contrarian streak, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. When she saw Fenrir on Friday, she enthusiastically agreed to go with him on the research trip. They made plans to meet the next morning at the Animal Behavior lab, and then he would drive them to the cabin.

Friday evening, however, she was cajoled into going out to the bar with her friends for a beer after a long night of studying. It was actually going pretty well, until Bill showed up. Everyone was excited to see Bill, expect for Hermione.

He made his way over to talk to her privately, as soon as he could without raising any eyebrows. "I saw your name on the list to go on Greyback's research trip this weekend," he said, his voice tight with concern, while they watched Harry and Ron play a game of pool.

"I don't see how that's any of your business, Bill," she said, annoyance in her voice. Really, unless he could tell her _why_ Greyback was dangerous, she wasn't going to listen to him. As of right now she was pretty sure he just held a grudge.

"Please don't go with, Hermione. It's dangerous," he said, repeating his same old lines, keeping his head forward.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know, Fenrir told me about how you got handsy with a woman he was seeing, and that's why you don't like him," she said. She turned so that he would have to look at her. "Unless you can give me a specific reason not to go, our conversation is finished."

In the dark, she could still see the puckered pink scar on his face. "It's physically dangerous, Hermione," he answered, completely serious. She felt a little jolt of fear in her belly at the tone of his words. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

She kept his gaze for a few more moments, and she could tell that he was telling the truth...she just wasn't sure _what_ the truth was about.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione's dreams were confusing and dark, and she hadn't slept well the night before her trip with Fenrir. It was nothing like the dreams that had plagued her all week of Fenrir's lips ghosting along her body. Still, she gathered clothes and some textbooks into a duffel bag, before dressing in clothing suitable for a trek through the woods. Locking up her apartment, she made the short walk to the Animal Behavior lab.

There was a lot of fog rolling off the lake as the weather turned colder, giving the grounds of the campus an eerie feel. She wondered if it was some kind of omen, and she thought briefly about calling Fenrir and canceling. Then, she got annoyed at herself for letting Bill's words get to her.

When she got to the lab, it appeared empty, but she knew that a couple of professors and students were probably lurking about. On the way up to Fenrir's lab, she ran into probably the one Professor that she didn't want to see. "Miss Granger, may I have a word?" Lupin asked, calling from a nearby classroom.

Hermione could barely contain her groan of annoyance, not wanting to talk to him just as she was about to leave. Still, she turned around, bright smile plastered on her face "Good morning, Professor Lupin. What can I do for you?" she asked.

"I know that I won't be able to talk you out of going on the trip this weekend," Lupin said, looking down at her with a serious face. He also had a few scars on his face, though they all looked old, not like the pink waxy one that Bill had. She wondered just how he'd gotten them. "But, please take care of yourself this weekend."

She was beginning to get annoyed that everyone in her life seemed to think that she was incapable of taking care of herself without being reminded to do it. "I will be sure to do that, Professor," she said, letting some of her annoyance bleed into her tone.

Perhaps sensing her sassiness, Lupin had to add onto his advice. "As soon as the moon goes up, make sure that you bar yourself inside the cabin. Especially if you are alone. Don't be afraid to protect yourself, he added, making eye contact with her. The seriousness in his green eyes had Hermione's stomach roiling in fear.

Nodding, she promised him that she would take every precaution to keep herself safe, before making the rest of the walk to Fenrir's office. She was deep in thought by the time she arrived, wondering if this was really such a good idea.

Fenrir greeted her with a kiss on the lips and a squeeze of her arse. He took her duffle bag from her, picking it up as if it was the lightest thing in the world. Fenrir always seemed to be strong, even bordering on...unnaturally strong. The observation flitted through her mind quickly, adding to her already troubled thoughts.

As soon as they were all packed up and loaded in the car, Hermione was feeling rather annoyed with herself. How could she let everyone's misguided thoughts about Fenrir get to her? It's just...well, she felt preposterous really, even thinking it, but when she first met Fenrir, he had reminded her of the big bad wolf. And every warning she'd gotten was suddenly making her heart beat a bit faster in fear.

Shaking her head, Hermione was determined to have a good time with Fenrir, and maybe even nail down what exactly their relationship was. Or why he had chosen her specifically. She'd just been a girl walking down a path after all.

Lucky for her, Fenrir was a pretty good companion in the truck, and they were soon on their way into the woods. It wasn't a long drive, but the terrain wasn't exactly ideal, so it took longer than she'd expected. He kept her busy, discussing what courses she was thinking about taking the next semester. He even told her about why he started studying wolves. Apparently, when Fenrir was a child, he'd found a wolf cub with its paw caught in a bear trap. He'd nursed it back to health, before eventually letting it go back into the wild. It was a story that she couldn't help but swoon over.

Before long, they'd arrived at the cabin, and unpacked their things. The forest was still, a bit foggy yet, and Hermione was suddenly reminded of just how completely alone she was with Fenrir our here. There were likely no other humans around for miles, so if something were to go wrong…

The cabin was small, Hermione noticed, but it was still much nicer than sleeping in a tent outside. There was only one bed, which Fenrir caught her staring at. He groaned, pressing his body against her back and hugging her to him. This hot breath tickled her ear when he talked. "Wish we could try that out right now, sweet," he practically purred. "But, I've got to start my research if I want to leave any time for extracurriculars."

Hermione's cheeks were bright red at the thoughts and the feeling of his hard body against her back. She wasn't surprised that there was only one bed...she knew what she was signing up for when she'd agreed to come with. Still, it was nice to finally meet someone as devoted to their work as she was.

Fenrir was apparently studying a wolf pack's behavior. He was going out to find their den, and tag any of the new cubs. Then, he would watch them interact for a while. "Don't expect me back before dark. I will probably stay out through moonrise," he said with a kiss to her lips that promised all sorts of pleasure upon his return.

He'd left looking utterly shaggable in tight jeans and boots, and a flannel shirt under his jacket. Hermione watched him trek out into the woods until she could no longer distinguish him from the trees. Sighing, Hermione snuggled into the bed and decided to do a bit of homework since she had the time to herself.

* * *

She certainly hadn't meant to, but it seemed that Hermione had fallen asleep while reading about nonlinear differential equations. She couldn't be positive what it was that had woken her up, but she was sure that the tingle of fear on the back of her neck had something to do with it. Blinking slowly, she let her eyes adjust to the dark of the room.

It was certainly after sunset, now, Hermione thought, but she was surprised by just how dark it was out in the woods, without any light except for the soft white glow of the moon. She sat up, only to be startled nearly out of her skin at the slapping sound of her heavy textbook falling to the ground.

Her heart was beating a mile a minute, and Hermione couldn't deny that she was scared. She was all alone in this little cabin in the woods, and Fenrir still wasn't back yet. In the distance she heard a howling that had her blood running cold.

Just like the one outside her bedroom window.

Professor Lupin's words came slamming back into her mind, that she'd promised him that she would bar the door when the moon came up. She wondered why he would give her such a bizarre directive. Even if there were dangerous wolves out there, that didn't mean they could open door handles.

A chilling realization sped through her mind. It was the full moon tonight.

Her heart was beating so hard now that it made her chest hurt. Wolves couldn't open doors but...could werewolves? She thought about how both Bill and Lupin's grudges against Fenrir seemed so personal. And then, she remembered both of their scars across the face, so similar, but with so much time in between.

Not to mention their constant insistence that Fenrir was dangerous. But how could he be dangerous unless…

The howl broke the stillness of the night again, only this time it seemed a little bit closer.

Her own observations from the first night that she met Fenrir came to her head again. The way he always seemed so animalistic, possessive, unnecessarily dominate. The way that he had with wolf cubs. His fascination with her. What if he'd only brought her out here to eat her when he was transformed?

God, it seemed preposterous, but now more than ever it seemed to fit. Was Fenrir a werewolf?

She fumbled against the bed, looking for the bedside table, cursing when her hand smacked into the little wooden table. Her fingers were shaking when she felt around for the light, only to remember that there hadn't been a light on the table.

Standing on shaking legs, she felt around in the darkness, barely able to make out the furniture in the pale light of the moon streaming in the window. She took a few cautious steps before she tripped over her backpack. Cursing again, Hermione sat up.

There was a noise that was getting closer to the cabin. Footsteps, it sounded like, and...growling? The low growling made her heart stop. Scrambling to her feet, Hermione made her way to the kitchenette, looking for anything to defend herself with. Grabbing the frying pan off the little stove, she turned around to face the door, just as heavy, booted footsteps could be heard on the porch.

Hermione felt so stupid, tears in her eyes, breathing wild, but she was going to do whatever she had to get out of this alive. Her heart was thudding so loud, she was sure that the predator outside her door would be able to hear it.

The door swung open, revealing a hulking shape in the darkness. Hermione raised the frying pan over her head, ready to swing when…

The light turned on. "Bloody hell! What are you doing Hermione?" Fenrir asked, looking exactly as he always did.

"Fenrir?" She asked cautiously, frying pan dropping in a clatter.

"Who else were you expecting?" he asked, concern still on his face.

She dissolved into tears, before running over into his waiting arms. She pressed her face against his chest, breathing in his warm scent — like the forest and utterly masculine — and felt her heart beat return to normal while he ran his fingers through her hair. Finally, pulling back, Fenrir ushered her to sit on the edge of the bed. Wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumb, he smiled down at her. "Hey, what's wrong? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Hermione shook her head, curls whipping around her wildly. "Oh, you are going to think it's so silly, Fenrir," she said, feeling completely embarrassed that she'd actually believed that he was a werewolf!

"It's alright, I won't make fun of you," he promised, wanting to get to the bottom of what made her so scared.

It all came bubbling out, the warnings that Bill had given her the night before, and the completely unusual instructions from Professor Lupin that morning. The way she'd thought of their scars. "I can't believe that I actually thought you were a werewolf. I am so sorry, Fenrir. God, I don't think I've ever been so embarrassed in my life," she said covering her cheeks in mortification.

Fenrir was laughing. He was laughing at her. "Oh, sweet. I'm the one who should be sorry. I should have been more open with you when you told me that you'd talked to Weasley," he said, wrapping an arm around her. "You see, they both hold me responsible for their scars."

He told her about how when he was just a young professor, on a research trip with Remus Lupin, the other man had been attacked by a feral wolf. They'd had trouble with the wolf before, and Lupin had made frequent petitions to put it down for the good of the pack, but Fenrir had argued against it. Lupin blamed him, then, when he was attacked the following spring. Really, he'd just gotten too close to the den. But, it had given Fenrir the idea to breed feral wolves with feral wolves and tamer wolves with tamer wolves.

Bill, apparently having listened to Lupin discuss how awful Fenrir's experiments were, had gotten a little bit too curious for his own good, one night. Determined to get to the bottom of it, he'd gone into Fenrir's lab to observe the specimens. He hadn't properly closed one of the cages of the larger males. Wanting to protect its pack, the male lunged and mauled Bill's face. Really, if Fenrir hadn't heard the commotion and come in, Bill could have ended up dead.

In the end, Hermione was even more embarrassed than she was to begin with, and annoyed with Bill Weasley especially. Those Weasleys were always too nosey for their own good, and then his nosiness had nearly gotten him killed! And he had the audacity to blame it on Fenrir. "Do you think you can forgive me, for thinking you were a werewolf?" she asked, with a hint of a giggle in her voice, thinking of how silly that sounded now.

Fenrir's face was positively predatory, when he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Oh, I think I can. But...since I've got you all out here alone in this cabin, how about I show you how much of a big, bad wolf I can be, little red?"


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione eyes fluttered shut at his suggestion. _Oh god,_ she couldn't think of anything she'd rather do than have Fenrir play the big bad wolf to her little red. Such an occurrence had been at the forefront of her dreams since she'd met him. Biting her lower lip, she turned to look at the man and nodded, eager to see what that all entailed.

He was on her the moment he got her consent, pressing her back against the bed, lips finding hers in an urgent caress. She opened her mouth to him, tongue darting against the seam of his lips, causing _him_ to groan. When she caught his lower lip between her teeth, he pressed his hot length against her leg.

His hulking body covered her completely, making her feel positively tiny in comparison. She was completely at his will, but she knew that her pleasure was the number one goal on his mind. Their tongues tangled together while Hermione's greedy little hands worked to undo the buttons of his flannel shirt. Pushing the fabric back over his broad shoulders, she let her fingers push into his short hair, holding him to her. She couldn't get him close enough.

Her shirt was next to go, followed by her bra. Fenrir pulled back and Hermione felt a pulse of wetness between her legs at the look in his eyes while he looked over her half-naked body. His lips descended again, teeth nipping, tongue soothing down her neck to find one pink tipped breast. The sensation was bordering on pain, but Hermione wanted more, and began to rock her hips against his leg in desperation for more. "Oh, Fenrir. Please."

Fenrir sat up to removed her jeans properly, undoing the snap and the zipper with a feral grin, seeing her lying there looking absolutely oversexed. With fingers hooking the sides of her knickers as well, he left her lying completely bare to his eyes. "Fuck, you look good enough to eat." His voice was gravelly with need.

Hermione whimpered, feeling so overwhelmed that she could bring such a reaction out of such a powerful man. She hissed when she felt his fingers running along her wet sex, gliding easily. He pressed a finger inside of her, making her mind spin with the intrusion. She _needed_ him inside of her. Moaning while he thrust his finger into her again and again, she let her fingers reach for his own jeans.

Getting the message, he stopped the pleasurable onslaught, shaking hands working to undo his zipper. She was pleased to see that he was just as eager as she was to get to the main course. Hermione had thought a lot about what Fenrir was going to look like completely naked, but all of the conjured images of her imagination did _not_ do him justice. He was really _quite_ impressive.

He was laughing at her, then, and Hermione realized she'd been staring with her mouth a bit open. Embarrassed to be caught, she pulled him to her, eager to kiss him again, and for him to be inside of her. His lean body pressed against her, she let her tongue play with his lazily, all the while rocking her hips against his, aching for his cock.

Fenrir pulled away, smirking when she pouted at their kiss being ended, before shaking his head. Hands on her trim waist, he encouraged her to turn over onto her hands and knees. Blushing, Hermione complied, but she certainly hadn't been expecting _this_ when he offered to show her just how wolfish he could be.

Still, as soon as she felt the tip of his cock nudging against her entrance, all reluctance flew out of the window. He pressed inside her slowly, giving her time to adjust to him. He leaned over her, pressing his forehead against her bare back. "Fuck, but you are tight, sweet," he rasped, his hot breath on her spine giving her shivers.

When she was ready, she pressed back against him, encouraging him to move. He sat up a bit straighter on his knees then, hands grabbing her hips, before he pulled out and thrust back in again. Their twin moans sent a bolt of desire through her, her cunt tightening around him. God, it felt better than she imagined.

He was strong, and he felt better than anything she could have imagined. Fenrir had reached around, his fingers playing with her hard nipples, while he continued his onslaught on her sensitive body. Every time he seated himself inside of her, she couldn't stop the little squeak of appreciation. Feeling like she was being so noisy, she pressed her face against the pillow in front of her, only to find that she liked the resulting angle _even_ more.

It took only a few more presses inside of her until she was coming around him, walls gripping him tightly, eager for him to follow behind her. Fenrir paused, leaning over, kissing up and down her spine while she recovered from her orgasmic haze.

Hermione turned her head to look at him out of the corner of her eye, giving him a lazy smile. Only, Fenrir wasn't quite done with her. With one arm around her waist, he pulled her boneless body up, until she was also on her knees, his cock still cradled inside her. With her back pressed against his stomach, she felt completely exposed, but it also gave her lover better access to her needy body.

One hand cupped her breast, thumb toying with her nipple, while his other hand was wrapped low around her waist. He began thrusting into her again, pulling a needy gasp from her lips, while his finger found the little bud at the top of her sex, lazily circling it in time with his thrusting. She felt too sensitive, but she was already racing back towards the edge.

Hermione wanted nothing more than to kiss him, so she wrapped one arm back around his neck, tilting his head to meet hers. Her neck was twisted severe, but that didn't matter when her lips were pressed against his fiercely, her sex throbbing at the treatment he was giving her. Eyes clenched tight, on more flick of his finger on her clit had her spinning into orgasm a second time.

Fenrir's thrusts became erratic and it was only moments before he was following her, filling her. His breathing was heavy and he groaned while he eased her down against the mattress, exhausted. With Hermione cradled in his arms, he could feel the length of the day weigh on him, not to mention all the activity that he'd just had. Pressing a gentle kiss against her neck, he sighed. "You're mine now, Hermione."

Her answer was a weak little moan.

* * *

The following morning was greeted with more physical affection. This time, though, they took it slow — Fenrir moving gently above her while they kissed lazily, coming together as one. Hermione was pleased to learn that he could give her passionate love as well as the exciting frenzy they'd had the night before.

After a huge breakfast that Fenrir prepared for them, he had to go back out in the forest to do a bit more observation before they would return to Hogwarts in the afternoon. Hermione was absolutely giddy, seeing all the love bites that she'd left on _him_ this time, but she knew that she sported enough matching ones to look thoroughly debauched.

She didn't want to leave the quiet little cabin sanctuary that had brought their relationship to the next level without nailing down just _what_ their relationship actually was. "Fenrir? Can I talk to you about something?" she'd asked, after he returned from visiting the den.

"Uh oh, that sounds a bit ominous," he'd said with a small smile. From the tiny little furrow in his brow, though, she knew that he was actually nervous.

"I was just wondering...what you want with me?" she questioned, her nose scrunching when she realized just how _awful_ that sounded. "I mean, are you my boyfriend?" she asked, looking down at her hands in her lap, feeling entirely too embarrassed to actually make eye contact with him.

He crossed the room in just two short steps, aided of course by his considerable height. He cradled her chin in one hand, tilting her face up to look into his brilliant blue eyes. "I'll be anything you want me to be. I'd love to be your boyfriend, Hermione," he said seriously.

Still, she was a bit confused about why he chose her. "But...why me? I mean, you're _so_ good looking...and accomplished...and surely, you've got all sorts of women after you," she said, feeling self conscious, despite the way he'd given his body to her the day before and today. How could he still want to be with her when she'd convinced herself that he was a _fucking werewolf?_

"I'm not really sure what it is about you, but from the moment I saw you on Halloween, I felt drawn to you," he said, seriously. "I knew that I had to talk to you, and then once we spoke, I knew that I had to _possess_ you."

She blushed, thinking that he'd rather done that. But then again, she'd possessed him too. That was _her_ mark on his neck, just peeking out of his thermal shirt. "Alright," she said, with a grin. "Well, let's get a move on, boyfriend." Standing on her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his neck, before kissing him fiercely.

* * *

Fenrir Greyback had gone a long time without having a _girlfriend_. Still, though, he couldn't deny that he absolutely loved all of the perks that came with having Hermione Granger as his. She was smart and driven, made him laugh more than anyone he could remember, and they had the most amazing chemistry. It had only been a week since she'd accompanied him on his research trip, but he'd had her every day since they'd been back.

They seemed to have a _connection_ that drew them both to one another. Fenrir wasn't all that bothered by it, so long as Hermione still wanted him. He definitely wasn't going to stop wanting her anytime soon.

The only problem with his _woman_ — as he prefered to think of her as — was that her friends were nosey as fuck. After the little redheaded girl kept banging on Hermione's door every time he came over, he'd insisted that she come back to his house instead. There was much more space — many more flat surfaces to christen — and it was generally nicer than her tiny studio apartment.

His possessiveness was off putting to her friends, he knew, but they were still in such a fragile time in their relationship. He wished they would just back off and give him a bit of time alone with her first, or at least hold off judgement on him. He hated the way that they were constantly trying to convince Hermione that he was _dangerous_ just because he didn't prescribe to Lupin's behavioral theories. They got her so worked up that she'd scared herself nearly half to death thinking he was a fairytale creature. He could admit that he hadn't helped things, playing up the little red riding hood thing when he walked her home on Halloween.

His woman would placate him with a kiss on the lips or nuzzle her head into his neck, before promising him that she would handle her friends.

It was how he found himself being dragged along to the bar for drinks with her people. It was a bloody student bar, and he couldn't help but think that he should _not_ be here, where he might run into his students, but he was glad he'd gone with. He couldn't live with himself if he would have missed the beautiful dressing down that Hermione had given Bill Weasley.

She'd stalked over to the tall redhead, mouth in a snarl, beer in hand. "William Weasley!" shd shouted, getting his attention, only to throw that beer in his face. "How _dare_ you try to scare me off from Fenrir, when you owe him your life?"

Bill desperately tried to placate his feisty _girlfriend_ while she continued to berate him and defended Fenrir's honor to everyone and anyone who would listen. When Bill looked over her head to meet Fenrir's smiling eyes, Fenrir couldn't resist smirking and raising his whiskey glass in his direction.

Hermione came bounding back over to him, obviously still thoroughly annoyed. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a steamy kiss to remind her that she was _his_. "Watching you defend me has got me so hard, sweet." He pressed the evidence of his arousal into her stomach, snickering when she moaned a little bit under her breath. He let his arm wrap around her to pull her closer, his hand cupping her arse. Bill Weasley scowled at him from across the bar.

She looked up at him with an innocent expression, her voice sugary sweet. "Maybe if you play nice with my friends, we can leave early and I can help you take care of that." Hermione caught her lower lip between her teeth, leading Fenrir to believe she knew _exactly_ what she did to him.

"Alright, I will play along, this time," he said, sighing, like it was a big hardship.

It wasn't a big hardship, though, if he got to get a taste of his little red at the end of the night.


End file.
